TripSailor.com® Sailing Blogs

I rose early again and, after walking the decks and checking the anchor, decided to take a nap on the trampoline to catch the dawn over Marina Cay. With the breeze blowing over AND under me, I slept well and almost missed it.

Before long everyone was stirring for a breakfast of fresh fruit, granola and yogurt. Knowing there was a large reef just to the East side of the Cay we all headed out for a snorkel. We took the dingy, but soon discovered how shallow it was and just dropped everyone off instead. There was a significant current and not much to brag about here, a lot of dead and broken coral and little sea life. Several did make their way out to a wall near the warning buoy and found some lovely sea biscuits and lots of conch.

We also took the dingy in to the dock and were disappointed to find out they were as closed as they looked. We spent a while posing for the webcam at the Red Phone Booth, and took a few photos of the anchorage.

It was warming up, so we raised anchor and got underway towards the Baths.  We joined three or four others on Park moorings and Norman ferried us to shore. I had missed the Baths on our first trip so I was loaded down with camera and video to capture every nook and cranny.

This whole end of Virgin Gorda looks like God emptied his rock tumbler. Gianormous boulders worn smooth by the flow of salt water, tossed together randomly, creating a maze of passageways accented by shafts of light and reflecting pools. We were entertained by a chorus of sounds as the sea water rushed through the crevices, echoed in the dark corners and then rumbled at the end of a rock organ pipe. 

David, who had chosen to swim in to the beach, also took the solo swim back from Devil’s Beach to the MarthaR. He just missed Norman who visited Spring Bay and other local favorites on his way to get us. Kevin and I ran back thru the Baths and caught him napping on the sand, dingy hand in line. We helped him launch and retrieve the others.

‘Island Time’ in mind we dropped mooring and set off for Gorda Sound. Wind and current were not as cruel as the day before and we circled Mosquito Island and entered Gorda Sound just as the sun was setting behind us. We crossed over to Biras Creek where we joined one other boat in time to watch twilight fade to darkness. As it fell it brought a hoard of tiny thirsty things with sharp noses that chased us into the cabin for dinner.

We had turned on the A/C to substitute for the lost breeze in our mosquito cage, so a card game ensued in the salon. Hand and Foot (a north Alabama form of Canasta) was the order of the day and let six mates share the thrill of victory and agony of defeat on succeeding nights.